


Breaking and Mending

by chillsoya



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Agender Tonks, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Jealous Sirius, M/M, Marauders, Mild Sexual Content, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pranks, Sirius discovers cling film, Unresolved Emotional Tension, marauders map
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 10:21:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7931017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chillsoya/pseuds/chillsoya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During/Post Azkaban One Shot</p><p>Sirius escapes from Azkaban and goes to Hogwarts to find Peter. Remus is busy dealing with 12 years of emotional baggage and trying to be a good teacher. When the truth of what happened all those years ago comes to light, there's a lot to be explained and resolved. Luckily, thanks to Snape revealing Remus's lycanthropy, they both have to go into hiding which gives them the chance to get to work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking and Mending

**Author's Note:**

> Finally posting this - I've been sitting on it for a couple days. As you may have noticed if you follow my other fics, I've been a bit quiet lately. In short, I've had writer's block but this has really helped! Back in business :) 
> 
> Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of Sirius's past abuse in Azkaban. Depression, anxiety, self loathing. Remus hurts himself during transformations which could be viewed as self harm/self mutilation (although it isn't purposeful). Alcohol consumption, swearing. Mild sexual content... Mild to moderate, anyway. If there are any other tags/trigger warnings you can think of, please let me know!

Characteristic of Remus’s mood, there’s a storm going on outside. Rain, wind, threatening thunder and lightning soon. The lights in his shitty apartment keep flickering on and off. Tonks has just left, apparating with a loud crack - they had obviously tired of their very awkward first date, of his lack of attention. He feels sort of regretful, but his mind is occupied with other things.

He sits at the window, tapping on the glass as he ponders. Puddles are welling up in the gutters now and the streetlamps barely help cast light through the sheet rain. “Fuck.” He groans, scrubbing his hands through his hair. He checks his watch, checks the date. Transformation tomorrow. His joints are already aching and sore and he’s ravenous.

There couldn’t have been a worse time for Remus and Tonks to have their first date, to be honest. The day before a transformation, for a start, meant he was very sensitive to the smell of their perfume - it made his nose itch - and also, he was tetchy. They had been their usual funny, witty self, but they were both nervous. Not just because of the date, the new setting for their previously strictly friendly relationship. But because they had both just received news - shocking, somewhat unwelcome news.

Sirius Black had broken out of Azkaban prison.

No one had ever done it before - it was supposed to be impossible. But of course, Remus had never doubted Sirius’s excellence. If anyone was going to do it, it would be him.

_But that doesn’t change anything. He’s still a murderer._

He keeps on telling himself this, thinking of James, Lily, Peter. The way that 12 years ago, everything he thought he knew about his best friend had disintegrated. All the years spent together in Hogwarts lost their meaning, the happy memories disappeared. Remus felt like he had been sentenced to Azkaban himself - like he was surrounded by dementors all the time, stealing away his few happy thoughts. Nothing could make this better.

_Why? Why did he break out? What more could he possibly have to prove?_

The last memories Remus has of Sirius had all been marred by the oncoming war, the terror they were all feeling. He had felt mistrusted by Sirius, been excluded from private conversations all of a sudden. Only Lily had seemed apologetic - James had seemed conflicted, confused. Sirius had been detached and Peter looked like he was about to break.

He should have known. Should have known it would all break down. When Dumbledore told him what happened, he had been furious - furious with Sirius, heartbroken for him. Confused, guilty that he hadn’t noticed somehow, hadn’t stopped it. Scared, because it felt like his life had finally been torn apart. And when he found out that Harry was being given to the Dursleys, that had been the final straw.

Remus hadn’t been in contact with Dumbledore in years, but soon he’ll be seeing him very frequently - he’s going to teach the Defense Against the Dark Arts position soon. He’ll get to see Harry again. He’ll be able to keep busy, and hopefully Sirius won’t be the only thing on his mind, haunting him like he has been for over a decade now. He shivers, looks at the suitcase he’s already packed. Just a few more days.

* * *

_Hurt, Moony, hurt. Pain. Pain. Fear. Pain. Anger._

The full moon is high in the sky and Remus, or at least the werewolf, is curled in the charmed spare room, trembling. It is silent for a moment, then he howls.

_Moony pack gone. Moony pack, where? Fear, anger. Pain, fear. Moony pack. Dead._

It’s been like this for nearly 12 years now. Sirius, James and Peter used to transform with him to keep him company, to help calm the wolf. But with them gone, it had become agonising again. Although slowly improving over the years, tonight Moony is particularly irritable. He claws at himself, angry and upset.

_Padfoot. Padfoot kill. Kill Padfoot._

His thoughts are endless, a few words at a time. He can’t calm himself.

_Smell… Not alone. Moony pack?_

After that, it’s a blur. He’s not alone. Someone is in the flat, he can hear them. He howls and rams at the door, trying to break free of the room. Luckily, he casts reinforcement charms on it from the inside before the transformation, along with silencing charms.

But it isn’t locked.

_Padfoot…?_

The dog is small, skinny, ragged. It watches Moony warily.

_Padfoot… Kill? Kill Prongs, Worm?_

The dog looks down at the floor, shaking its head. _No._

_Padfoot lie. Moony thought Padfoot Moony pack. But Moony wrong. Padfoot kill. Moony kill Padfoot!_

Whimpering, the dog backs away, sitting down in the corner - a sign of submission, it bares its neck. _No. Moony, no._ It begs - Remus can hear it in his mind, their pack connection still there after all this time. No.

* * *

When Remus wakes, he feels warm - there’s a blanket lain over him. He tenses up immediately, casting about the room for company. He’s alone. Despite the usual pains of the transformation, the aching joints and bruises, there are less wounds than usual. He frowns, looking himself over underneath the blanket. There’s a familiar smell lingering, but he can’t place it. His memories of the night before are, as usual, pretty much non-existent.

Standing up shakily, Rem keeps the blanket wrapped firmly around himself as he removes the charms on the room and mends the gouges on the door, floor and walls. He casts a few healing charms on a couple scratches on his shoulders and torso but is left without the usual amount to do.

A patrol of the flat turns it up empty. It’s already after dinner time and he’s starved. He leaves the lights off, his senses still heightened after the transformation so he can see fine. He’s in the middle of clearing the fridge of food, standing by the window when he sees it.

A shadow flickering on the other side of the street, just out of the glare of a streetlamp. Remus ducks to the side, pressing his back to the wall by the window, his mouth full of cake. Carefully, he peeks around. Sitting a few feet out of the bushes by a streetlight, is a dog. It’s skinny, ragged, black. Black.

“Oh my god.” Remus whispers, horrified, excited, relieved and livid all at once. He hesitates, not knowing what to do. By the way the dog is staring right at the window, it knows he’s there. Not it - Sirius. Sirius Orion Black, escaped prisoner of Azkaban.

Rem catches his breath, swallows his cake then looks back out of the window, strengthening his resolve. He has to do something, for James, for Lily, for Peter. But Sirius is gone.

* * *

Remus has a letter in his briefcase but he forgets about it. It was on his dining room table when he woke up but he hadn’t noticed it in the rush of packing, unpacking, repacking the same suitcase. In the last few hours, it was there. The penmanship is familiar - that’s why he won’t read it.

Harry looks just like James, but he has Lily’s eyes. He’s obviously troubled, skinny, nervous of Remus’s friendliness. The attack on the train by the dementor has Remus on high alert, and all the dementors around Hogwarts are making the wolf howl in the back of his head whenever he allows himself to think about it.

He shares his fears with Dumbledore, who sighs. “Remus, I understand why you would be fearful of dementors. It is how they are supposed to make you feel, and they are an unwelcome asset at my school. But I can no more turn away the dementors, sent by the Ministry, than I can turn away time. We must be vigilant.”

“Professor - sorry, Albus. Why do you think he broke out?”  
“Do you fear his name, Remus? He was your best friend.”  
“He was - but my friend wouldn’t have killed James, Lily or Peter. He was… He was good.”  
“Life is not black and white - you know that better than most. We are all a mixture of good and bad, and sometimes, one side wins over the other. Remus, I suggest we remember Sirius as we knew him. Not all is as it seems and now is the time for this to come to light.”

The cryptic message puzzles Remus for days. His next transformation is similar to last time, less painful than he feels it should be. He has the feeling when he enters the Shrieking Shack, a place he spent so many nights during his time here as a student, that something has changed. The place feels… Lived in.

After that transformation, he remembers last time. Remus goes to his briefcase right away, opens it up. The letter is tucked under multiple sheaths of parchment detailing various magical creatures, hidden securely inside an envelope disguised as a muggle paycheck for extra safety. He transforms it back to its original format, sits down at his desk and holds his breath.

_Remus._

That’s all the front says, no betrayal of the contents within. Is he ready to hear what Sirius has to say, after all these years of silence?

_Get the map. You will understand._

_Your friend,_

_Padfoot._

“Get the map.” He repeats to himself, frowning. That’s all Sirius could say to him. He groans, rubbing his hands over his face as he leans back in his chair. Would the map betray Sirius’s location, help him find him? He could turn him over to Dumbledore that way.

_You will understand._

* * *

When Harry falls from his broomstick, Remus realises that he will have to start to teach him the patronus charm, sooner rather than later. It’s taxing work - Harry is so much like his parents that his heart aches, though he can’t share that with him. He doesn’t want to scare the teenager away - in a way, he’s the only family he has left.

Sirius’s letter is re-fashioned into a paycheck again and stuffed to the bottom of the briefcase. He reads it every couple of nights on a good week, a few times a day on a bad one. Snape finishes the potion needed to keep his human mind during a transformation. He thinks Sirius might try and approach him that night, but he doesn’t - he is alone, trying to tame the wolf. He knows Sirius has been here, though - he can smell him, see evidence of his living. He finds a few strands of Sirius’s hair after he’s returned to human form and for some reason, he keeps them.

Things are changing - Snape’s animosity to him is barely contained. Dumbledore is increasingly evasive and Hagrid is in a state of emotional turmoil about the looming death of Buckbeak. The castle lacks its usual cheerfulness with the dementors hovering so nearby. It feels like when Remus was still a student here, in their final years when the war was so close you could feel it.

Then he gets the map. Harry is wandering the castle, alone. Remus doesn’t really think Sirius would approach him in a corridor where there were hundreds of portraits ready to report back to Dumbledore. However, he’s furious that Harry allowed Snape to catch him out like that. He confiscates the map in a guise of fury and sends Harry away, hating the dejected look on his face.

* * *

Remus keeps the map in the drawer of his desk for two days, unable to pick it up or look at it without having his heart in his mouth. He considers just giving it, along with the letter he received from Sirius, to Dumbledore. But Sirius thought this would change things somehow. He had been his best friend once - what if there was more to all of this than it seemed, like Dumbledore had suggested? And what about what Harry had said - something about Peter being on the map? What does that mean?

One night, he sits at his desk after midnight, contemplating what to do. The map is sitting in front of him, currently a blank piece of parchment.

 _Just do it_. He tells himself, groaning his frustration. _Get it over with._

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” He says it so quiet he can barely hear himself over the pounding of his heart, but the map knows. The ink swirls out from nowhere, detailing the castle. Remus remembers the painstaking time it took to make this, all the sweat, blood and tears. The hours spent exploring the castle, the Filch-attended detentions they gained from that.

Remus shakes his head, a sad smile on his face - James had always argued, when they were sitting in their dorm, that the school should thank them for this masterpiece. One day, if they could reproduce it, it would be the way to ensure Hogwarts was always safe, students needn’t ever bump into bullies, exes or Filch. They would be heralded as the geniuses of the ages. _Well, that had never happened. Focus._

Harry is, thankfully, in his dorm tonight rather than out wandering the corridors. No one is near his office. He can’t see anything untoward, no students out of bed, or staff for that matter. It takes him a long time of staring at the aged inked lines until anything happens. Then it’s there. Peter Pettigrew is unmistakably there on the map, near the kitchens. His blood freezes. What now?

* * *

Sirius had wanted him to know this. Sirius had known about Peter being in the castle - but how? Sirius himself had killed Peter. This could only mean, unless there truly had been some kind of malfunction, that somehow, Peter had survived. It just didn’t make sense. Remus lets out a shaky breath - he’s been here, thinking endlessly, for hours, staring at Peter’s name on the map.

If Peter wasn’t dead, then who did Sirius actually kill? What had Peter been doing all these years, why hadn’t he come forward? What did he have to hide?

“Peter Pettigrew was the secret keeper, wasn’t he?” Remus’s voice is cold and empty. Dumbledore looks up, surprised but not shocked. “Tell me, Albus.” Dumbledore sits down in his headmaster’s chair, bringing the tips of his fingers together beneath his chin.  
“James and Lily did not tell me who the secret keeper was. But I do know that Sirius had refused the position - he thought it would be too obvious.” They lapse into silence. Did Dumbledore not realise how much gravity this had? Remus had thought, all this time, that Sirius was the secret keeper. But he hadn’t betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort - he couldn’t have. He didn’t even know where they were.

But James would have told Sirius who the secret keeper was. Sirius would have known it was Peter. Would have known when James and Lily were killed that it was because of Wormtail. It all makes sense, all of a sudden.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Remus sinks to the floor, his head in his hands. He had believed his best friend, the man he loved in more ways than one, was a murderer. For 12 years. And Dumbledore had let him.  
“How could I, Remus? You believed he was a murderer with so much vindication that you wouldn’t speak his name. I could not rouse you from your grief any more than I could this belief. It would only damage things further.”  
“But you could have helped him, you could have saved them!”  
“Could I have, Remus? James and Lily did not want me to be the secret keeper. It was not my place to intervene” Dumbledore, whilst understanding of Remus’s horror, doesn’t seem concerned enough. Remus feels himself colouring with rage. He stands and turns on his heel, leaving the headmaster’s office without another word.

* * *

Sirius is near the Whomping Willow, as Padfoot at least. He is looking out at the moon - it will be full tomorrow. He transforms into his human form, easing out his joints with a groan. Remus is watching from some way off. His breath hitches at the transformation. Sirius’s hair is even longer than before, a matted mess. His clothes are tattered - a plain white t-shirt, damp with sweat and muddy. He has the trousers of Azkaban prison on, ripped at the knees. He can’t see his face.

Then, Sirius turns around and looks right at him. His face glows in the moonlight, deathly pale, the bones of his chest visible. His cheekbones are sharper than they ever were before, there are deep rings around his eyes. He looks like hell and Remus doesn’t know why he’s surprised. 12 years in Azkaban would surely do that to someone.

“Sirius…” He tries to say, but all that comes out is a low rasp. Sirius looks miserable, tormented, his whole body shaking. Remus wants to tell him that he understands, but he can’t make himself speak across the gap that 12 years have left. Wordlessly, Sirius transforms back into Padfoot and runs. Remus doesn’t try and follow.

* * *

The next morning, Remus isn’t entirely sure if seeing Sirius was a dream. All he knows is that his whole body is aching with the oncoming transformation that night. Luckily, Dumbledore has arranged it that Remus will always be absent the day before and after the transformation so he doesn’t have to worry over classes. He spends the day eating, sleeping, pacing, looking at the map. How is he supposed to go forward?

They’re nearing the end of the school year now and students are trying to prepare themselves for upcoming exams. Harry seems troubled as ever, especially now after the break in at Gryffindor Tower and with his friends feuding due to Ron’s rat disappearing. Remus has a sickening feeling about the rat that the Weasley family have been looking after - if Harry is to be believed, they’ve had it for longer than any rat should have survived. It has to be Peter. He’s sure of it.

* * *

In the end, Remus was right. And so was Sirius, even if it did take him 12 years to prove it. Not that that mattered - nothing had changed. Peter had escaped. Remus was leaving his job, Sirius was going into hiding under Dumbledore’s covert protection. Harry was in distress at it all - he thought that he had made the right choice by valuing what he believed James would have wanted. In the end, Peter had evaded them and Sirius could not have his name cleared. He might never be a free man, but at least he was outwith Azkaban now. Harry had to return to the Dursleys and Remus had to hide his fears from him so as not to further upset him.

Maybe they had been idealistic to think it would be so easy as Sirius clearing his name and Harry going to live with him. But it had felt almost palpable with the happy haze of the reunion over them. Then it had all gone wrong. Remus blames himself without fail for the happenings of that night, for forgetting his dose of Wolfsbane. It might have been different were it not for that.

* * *

“Remus, you need to go into hiding too.” Dumbledore advises sagely. Remus is still livid with the headmaster but doesn’t let it show. “While I feel you are perfectly fit to be teaching here, if your wish is to leave then I will do what I can to protect you. You and Mr Black will go into hiding together. I cannot disclose to you the location as sadly, the walls have ears - you will be escorted there from your apartment tomorrow. Keep your things packed.”

* * *

Tonks apparates into Remus’s apartment with a cheeky grin. “Wotcher, Remus.” Today their hair is bright yellow and their eyes are green. They look around the place, not having been here since their first date. “Got all your stuff together?”   
“Yeah. all here.” Remus smiles tiredly, not having slept. His suitcase is in the same place he left it last night. The only change he’s made is adding a couple of bits of grocery shopping – chocolate, mainly.

They hesitate by the couch, watching one another. Tonks’s feelings for Remus are clear but he is uncertain. Nearly a year apart, and he’s about to go into hiding - there won’t be time for them to truly be together. He isn’t sure he wants them to be - the easy dynamic of their friendship suited him well. Romance seems too complicated for now.   
“So… An eventful year of teaching, then?” Tonks sighs, trying for conversation. Remus shrugs sheepishly, glancing around to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything.  
“Yeah, pretty much. It was good to be back.”  
“Even with all the dementors?”  
“That put a bit of a damper on things, yeah, but it was good, you know. Seeing Harry again.” He tails off, dropping his head.  
“And Sirius?”  
“Well… I didn’t see much of him. But it’s good to know he’s not, y’know… A murderer or anything.”  
“Yeah. It’s good.” Tonks agrees, nodding along. They gives Remus a funny look that he can’t decipher before shaking it off. “Anyway, shall we get going?”

They apparate to the secret location, suddenly surrounded by darkness.

“Lumos.” Tonks commands, holding up their wand. “Sirius, can you turn on the bloody lights?” They call, looking around the place. Remus can see fairly well. The room is small, no windows and sparse furnishing. A couch here, a side table there. A bookshelf, totally bare is in the corner. Sirius is nowhere to be found - he must be in the next room.

It turns out their location is a small flat, with no windows and barely any furniture. There is one bedroom, with a double bed. Sirius is here, sleeping, curled up in a tiny ball with his ribs showing clearly through his t-shirt. When Tonks shines the light at the tip of their wand inside he jerks awake, pushing himself over the bed and into the corner with a look of fear and confusion on his face. When he registers who it is, he drops this expression with obvious embarrassment.   
“Ah… Sorry about that.” Sirius mumbles, looking down into his lap awkwardly before giving Tonks a grin. “No offense, but I thought you were a dementor.”   
“Easy mistake to make, no harm done. Not looking to snog you - sorry for the disappointment.” Tonks grins back, before redirecting the light of their wand to reveal Remus standing just behind her. Rem is staring at Sirius in total bewilderment, hardly able to believe he’s here, alive, not a murderer and still making terrible jokes. Sirius stares at him, his expression open and friendly as if this is all natural and nothing is different, there isn’t 12 years of separation, a barrier of miscommunication and a tonne of pain and confusion between them still.

Tonks looks between them, raising a brow before shrugging. “How do I turn the lights on in here, anyway?” They cast about for a lightswitch.  
“All candles in here I’m afraid - enchanted ones at least, instead of the shitty Muggle ones. Here.” Sirius uses wandless magic to light up a series of candles mounted on the wall. They flicker for a minute before the flames go steady - these won’t go out until the counter charm is used. Remus forgets Sirius’s prowess with wandless magic. To be honest, he forgot that Sirius wouldn’t have his wand yet.

“A bit archaic, but okay.” Tonks looks into the room properly now. There’s a double bed in the corner where Sirius is sitting. Next to that is a bedside table. In the corner nearest the door there’s a small wardrobe. The walls are papered with a dark maroon sort of colour which makes the small space feel even more claustrophobic. “I’ll let Sirius show you around, Rem. I have to head back to Dumbledore’s office before he heads off to his dinner party. I’ll try and come round when I can. It was, uh, nice seeing you.” They smile awkwardly, before waving to Sirius. “See ya’ later, Sirius.”

Tonks apparates from the living room - the only place it’s possible to apparate in and out of. Remus had seen them to there and given them a brief hug which felt like it was sort of obligatory. Sirius is leaning, apparently nonchalant, in the doorway, picking his nails.  
“Have you been together long, then?” Sirius asks, tilting his head as he watches Remus from across the room.  
“We’re not together.” Remus is puzzled by Sirius’s attitude but decides to brush it off until later. “Well, are you going to show me around our lovely holiday home or what?”

Sirius rolls his eyes at his demanding tone but grins anyway, gesturing for Remus to follow him.  
“The room you were just in is the ‘living room’, named thanks to its gorgeous lively wallpaper. I think the massive orange and pink carnations add a really nice touch.” Sirius waves back to the room they just left, Remus stifling his laughter. “I’m being serious, you know - it’s the height of interior design. The room you found me in is, regretfully, the only bedroom. I hope you’ve become more bearable to sleep next to than when we were in Hogwarts. I’ve already filled up the wardrobe I’m afraid, but I doubt you mind - you’ve never even heard of unwrinkled clothes.”

Next is the bathroom, a narrow room with a toilet at the end and a shower in a little alcove to the right. There’s a separate room with a bath in it that looks like it’s filled with cobwebs. Sirius casts an absentminded cleaning charm on this with his wandless magic, humming.  
“I didn’t have any cleaning products in Azkaban. All of the clothes I’ve brought are thanks to Tonks going to the shops for me.”  
“With very specific instructions, I suppose.” Remus grins. “How have you even got any money, anyway…? I mean, I thought what with your parents, y’know…”  
“Uncle Alphard left me all his money. He had a lot of it. Walburga wasn’t happy about that - another face off the tree.” Sirius shrugs. “Anyway, here’s the kitchen. Little bit of storage space. I think they’re going to try floo-ing us food for the first while, they don’t want anyone at the Ministry to pick up on too much apparating activity around here.” Sirius waves at the Muggle hob and oven, the small fridge and the cupboards. Currently, they’re all full.

There’s one more room. It’s totally bare, wooden floors and unpapered walls - there aren’t even any candles. The door is incredibly heavy, much to Remus’s surprise. He glances at Sirius uncertainly, casting a lumos spell to have a better look around.  
“This is for your transformations.” Sirius doesn’t really need to explain. They move back to the living room, and Remus lights the candles.

Sirius flops down on the old sofa, looking like it is the most comfortable piece of furniture ever. Remus supposes that it will be, next to a cell in Azkaban. He sits down next to him, still trying to register that this is real. Sirius is here. Sirius, who he can finally say is his best friend again. But they hardly know each other anymore, do they? It’s been 12 years.

“You look like you’re trying to sit on a dementor’s face.” Sirius comments, smirking. Remus gags at the thought.  
“I’d have thought you’d have an aversion to dementors instead of wanting to bring them up all the time.”  
“Face your fears, eh? You taught the boggart lesson to the third years, surely.” Sirius smiles, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s wearing a pair of black silk pj bottoms and a white t-shirt. His hair has been washed and the dirt scrubbed off his skin. Remus feels better seeing him like this, no matter how gaunt he still is.  
“Yeah, I did. To Harry’s class.”

Sirius’s face contorts a little at that, looking down into his lap.  
“Did you see much of him?” He asks, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Remus can see Sirius desperately wanted to spend more time with his godson, and his heart aches for him that he didn’t have the chance.  
“Yeah, he’s as much of a little shit as you might expect. Likes wandering about the place after dark. He had the map, you know. Snape caught him with it and the map was calling him a greasy git when I showed up.” Sirius howls with laughter at this, clutching at his stomach.   
“Oh Jesus, Snivellus must have loved that.”   
“Loved it as much as he loved seeing your sorry face.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence. Remus keeps on looking around the small room, wondering where exactly they are. Sirius is staring at him, curious, but whatever he wants to ask, he saves it for later.

* * *

Sirius goes to finish off his nap, counter charming the bedroom candles so they sizzle out all at once. Remus takes the opportunity to unpack some of his things in the living space. He finds the parchment with Sirius’s initial letter at the bottom, still disguised as a paycheck. He leaves it on the side table, under a couple other things, and moves on. It’s been a long and troubling year.

In the kitchen there’s plenty of food. Remus makes himself toast. As an afterthought, he makes some for Sirius too - it’s been over an hour since he went for a nap and if he keeps on sleeping like this, he won’t get any rest tonight.

Taking the plate of toast into the bedroom, Remus charms a few of the candles on but not all of them so as not to hurt Sirius’s eyes. He’s surprised Sirius doesn’t wake up right away. He leans over the bed and places a hand on his shoulder.

Sirius jerks awake, making to scream. His face is contorted - he’d been facing away when Remus came in, but by the sweat on his forehead and the wild look in his eye, he’s been having a nightmare. Sirius stares at him, eyes wide, gasping for breath. After a second, his body relaxes all at once, moaning in relief that it had just been a dream. Rem puts the toast down on the side table, crawling on to the bed with him as he kicks off his shoes. Sirius falls into his arms immediately, nuzzling his head into his chest.

They lie like that, Remus on his side with Sirius curled up in a ball against him, his face hidden against Rem’s chest. It’s familiar somehow - when Sirius returned to Hogwarts the summer after he had ran away from home, he had a lot of nightmares. Remus would crawl into his bed with him, cast a silencing charm and hold him until he could get back to sleep. It felt like the least he could do with the lengths that Sirius, James and even, he shudders to think, Peter had went to help him with his transformations.

After some time like this, Sirius’s breath evens out and he coughs sort of awkwardly.  
“Ahem. Sorry about that.”  
“You don’t need to apologise.” Remus is firm, pulling back to look Sirius in the eye. There’s a lot unsaid between them but that hasn’t changed, now that Rem knows the truth - he will unconditionally be there to help Sirius through anything and everything. It’s natural to him.   
“Thanks.” Sirius actually sounds a bit meek, going back to hiding his face in Rem’s chest for a bit. He sniffles, then perks up. “You made toast!”   
“Uh, yeah. It might be cold now though.”  
“Love cold toast.” Sirius grins, already half-way to stuffing a piece into his mouth in one bite. “Mmmm.”

Remus watches Sirius eat the whole plate of toast, without thinking of complaining that his portion is quickly disappearing too. He shakes his head - the way Sirius can eat a whole plate of food in about two seconds flat is a serious talent that he had forgotten about until now.  
“You’re eating like you haven’t been fed for 12 years.”  
“Nothing a dementor can bring you is at all appetising.” Sirius shrugs, actually licking crumbs up off the plate. “And there’s no way I could have managed doing magic in the Shrieking Shack - I was pretending to be a bloody dog half the time. No thumbs. Surprisingly, those are important.”

Remus had never thought of it like that - he guesses he doesn’t really grudge Sirius for the toast in the end. He ignores his hungry stomach, glad it isn’t audibly growling as that might ruin the moment a little bit. Sirius looks around, then lies back down in Remus’s arms. Holding Sirius like this he can really appreciate how malnourished he is - his ribs, collarbones, hip bones are all prominent. It makes his whole body ache - for 12 years, without a trial, Sirius, his best friend, had been deteriorating, barely surviving. And Remus had believed he deserved it.

He doesn’t vocalise any of that. He just keeps rubbing soothing circles into Sirius’s back, the two of them lost in their thoughts.  
“You and Tonks…” Sirius starts, glancing up at Rem to assess his expression.  
“Not together.” Remus tells him firmly, frowning. “We had one date. You ruined it.” Sirius’s face is a mask of confusion at this, making Rem grin. “It was the day you broke out - we were shitting ourselves.”   
“Oh. Sorry about that.”  
“No worries. Don’t think they’re really my type anyway.”  
“She’s a shapeshifter-thingy Remus, she can be anyone’s type.” Sirius argues exasperatedly - Remus had always been incredibly picky about relationships at school and he thought that might have changed.  
“There’s more to a relationship than looks, Sirius. Surely you know that?” Remus scolds.  
“Well, Azkaban wasn’t exactly like fucking speed dating, was it? I was in solitary, you bloody arse.”

Rem is taken aback at this, drawing away from his friend so he can look at him better. He hadn’t meant to hit a nerve - the idea of Sirius getting stingy about his experience is weird. He’d always been so confident in school, knowing he could get anyone he wanted. If it wasn’t for the fact that most of the wizarding world currently thinks he’s a murderer, Remus is pretty sure nothing would be any different now.

Rem had always been the awkward one, avoiding sexual contact at all costs. The problem wasn’t the people who were interested in him at all - they were all nice girls, really. The problem was that Remus was, and always had been, into blokes. Or at least, one specific bloke. But there’s no need to go into that now, he reminds himself, returning to the situation at hand.

“Sirius, I wasn’t having a go.” Remus watches him, still trying to suss out what’s wrong.  
“No, I know. Sorry, overreaction. Just a bit tetchy these days.”  
“Nothing’s changed then.” Sirius gives him a playful smack, sticking his tongue out. Remus snorts at his childishness.

“You’ve changed.” Sirius is looking pensive all of a sudden, not looking in Remus’s eyes.  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah, you’re grown up now. We thought we were adults then, you know. But we weren’t. Not really. You are, now.”  
“And you’re not?”  
“I wouldn’t count Azkaban as real-life experience - I’m in the same place as I was before, just… More messed up.”  
“Didn’t know that was possible.” Remus tries to lighten the mood, glad that Sirius smirks in return instead of getting offended. “Anyway, if you want to catch up to me then sure thing, but it’s not any fun.”  
“No?”  
“Nah. Being an adult’s shit. I don’t think we really got to be kids like we were supposed to - you know, care free and stuff. And I’m missing that.” Sirius nods at this, humming. They don’t speak again.

* * *

Remus wakes up hours later, alone, the candles out. He’s under the duvet - it’s reminiscent of that transformation after Sirius broke out. It’s confusing, but he feels more settled than he usually does after sleeping. Groggy, he moans and rubs his eyes. As he starts to come to, he notices with a start that he’s not wearing what he was when he came to bed. He’s in a pair of black pj bottoms, similar to the ones Sirius was wearing but with longer legs, thankfully.

Sirius had changed him?

“What the fuck.” Remus grumbles, moving towards the edge of the bed. Grumpy, he stumbles out of the room in the dark and looks around for a sign of life. He sees a few candles on in the living room and heads there, still bleary.

Sirius is sitting on the sofa, scowling at nothing in particular with a bottle in his hand. Remus pauses in the door, frowns and rubs his eyes as if trying to make sense of the situation.  
“Sirius?”

Sirius turns and looks at him like he hadn’t realised he was in the apartment at all. He raises a brow before turning away.  
“Yeah?” He takes a drink, pulls a face but doesn’t put the bottle down. Rem sighs and flops down next to him on the couch.  
“You ok?” It’s a pretty stupid question. Nothing is okay right now, but he doesn’t know where to start if not here. Sirius seems to agree on the question being stupid, going by the look he’s giving him just now.  
“Um. Yeah, sure – I’m fantastic.” The sarcasm is acidic in his tone and Remus rolls his eyes, staring at him disapprovingly until he goes on. “Probably just napped too long, can’t sleep.”

Remus realises he doesn’t even know what time it is and there’s no windows to guess by daylight – that’s going to be annoying. He looks at his watch – it’s 4am. No wonder Sirius is grumpy.  
“Nightmares?”  
“Yeah. Duh.” Sirius takes another long drink and shudders – whatever he has there is obviously disgusting but he drinks it anyway. “Not used to beer anymore.” He says in way of an explanation.  
“Ah, right.” That makes sense. “I’m not an effective dream catcher, then?”  
“What in the bloody hell is a dream catcher?”  
“Oh, it’s a muggle thing. Mum used to have one – it’s supposed to stop you having bad dreams.”  
“Oh, well then, no. You’re a shite dream catcher and I want my money back.” Sirius grins, and Remus is glad he could lighten the mood a little bit. They lapse into silence, fidgeting a little.

“Remus...” Sirius sighs, twirling his bottle in slow circles, the beer sloshing inside. Rem looks at him imploringly, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sorry you had to go into hiding with me.”  
“Well, it wasn’t exactly your fault.” This is not the turn he had expected their conversation to go in.  
“It kind of is, though. If I wasn’t poncing about Hogwarts causing trouble then-“  
“You mean if Peter wasn’t poncing about Hogwarts causing trouble.” Remus is stern, fixing Sirius with a look.  
“Well... Yeah, that.” Sirius pauses, considering how to go forward. “But you shouldn’t be here. You should be out there, teaching – Harry said you’re really good. You should be making a life for yourself. You should... I don’t know... Be married... Have kids or something...”  
“Okay, I’m going to stop you there. I couldn’t keep teaching if I wanted to, thanks to Snape –“  
“Please, Remus, call him by his first name. Snivellus and you must have gotten close after spending a whole year together in the staff room!”  
“Funnily enough I wasn’t in the staff room much – McGonagall still scares me. But yeah, okay, Snivellus decided to let everyone know about my furry little problem so I wouldn’t have been able to teach there anymore. Much as I’d have liked to.” He shrugs, pretending not to be upset about it. The problems that come with being a werewolf are kind of old news to him by now.

Sirius doesn’t seem to be taking it quite as easily.  
“Fucking cunt.” He snaps, taking a long final drink from his bottle and throwing it over the room. He’s obviously drunker than Remus thought. Before he can say anything, Sirius wandlessly summons another bottle. “I could kill him.”  
“Let’s not do that. I’m fairly sure he’s with Dumbledore these days anyway.” Remus shrugs, looking down into his lap.  
“Who gives a fuck? You deserve better, Remus. You deserve so much better. Like a wife, you know, like Tonks. I know you don’t think she’s your type, but she is, she’s funny, she’s flirty, interesting, clever, she’s got her head screwed on right. You deserve a proper life and I hate it that you’re here with me because I’m shit company, I’m too used to being on my own.”

Remus has a sinking feeling. Sirius might be right about his type, but Tonks isn’t it despite that. He wants to explain that, to explain himself. But he can’t. They’re going to be staying here for weeks together, maybe longer, and he can’t fuck it up. He groans, drops his head into his hands. What does he even say to that?

“Sirius...” He sighs, dragging his hands through his hair which is still sticking up in every direction from sleep. “I don’t want a wife. Are you bloody blind?” Sirius gives him a funny look for that like he’s started speaking another language.  
“Um... No. Eyes still functioning as far as I know.” He waves a hand in front of his face for demonstration.  
“I can’t believe this. I’m going back to bed.”

And he does just that. He’s lying in bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling for hours. Sirius seriously hasn’t worked out that he’s as gay as gay gets. Not like everyone knew that at Hogwarts. How does he break the news?

It was no secret at Hogwarts that Sirius was a bit of a lady’s man – he never showed an interest in guys (much to Remus’s chagrin). But he had never been unaccepting. Hell, if he can accept a werewolf, he can accept that Remus is gay. He hadn’t cared when Marlene and Dorcas were together. Surely nothing would change now?

But Remus can’t help but worry. Despite the trust he has in Sirius, the embarrassment of the misunderstanding is holding him back. And there’s so much they still need to talk about, this seems so miniscule. He can’t avoid talking about it forever, though... And if it’s come up in conversation...

The thing is, Remus was in love with Sirius before the war. And he never told a single soul. Lily knew, of course - she was always perceptive. She didn’t tell James, though, so Sirius never found out. 12 years of thinking he was a murderer changed things, obviously – but with the truth now having surfaced, Remus feels like he never stopped loving him despite all of that. That for the 12 years they were apart, he remained in love with the Sirius he knew before no matter how much he hated himself for it. And in that time he managed to hide it from himself.

From the first night he saw him, Remus has been realising that hidden doesn’t mean gone. Those feelings are still there, threatening to ignite.

* * *

  
Sirius comes to bed sometime later on, but Remus pretends to be asleep. When they would share a bed in Hogwarts they used to snuggle, but tonight Sirius keeps his distance. Rem wonders why – has he figured him out? Does it actually bother him?

In the end Remus doesn’t sleep at all and gets up not long after Sirius starts snoring. There’s nothing to do in the apartment so he reads through his papers. Sirius had already cleaned up the broken bottle from last night. He’s starting to think he should have packed more books.

Two chocolate bars later and he’s bored out his skull. Why won’t Sirius wake up?

“Ughhhh...” He groans, tossing his papers to the side table.

“What are you whining about?” Sirius is flopping down next to him all of a sudden, making Remus jump.  
“When did you wake up?”  
“Like, right now. So what are you whining about?” Remus looks at Sirius incredulously before shaking his head.  
“Nothing. Just bored.”  
“Well, your saviour is here now.” Sirius is grinning wildly as if he’s already brushed off the tension of last night. Remus wishes he could say the same – he’s going to actually come out to Sirius, like it isn’t totally obvious already. I’m too fucking old for this.

“Right. Yeah, saviour. Sure.” Remus rolls his eyes, crossing his legs.  
“You know, I thought you would look older.” Sirius is scrutinising him closely, making Rem squirm.  
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”  
“I just imagined you’d be all old, maybe a few grey hairs, wrinkles...” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. “Like an old guy. And I figured you might dress old, but you’re still rocking the skinny jeans.”  
“Never too old for skinny jeans.” Remus defends, feeling at his face all of a sudden as if smoothing out potential wrinkles. “I think I look very mature.”  
“I’m not sure of the beard.” Sirius frowns, flipping his hair over his shoulder.  
“I thought it made me look distinguished.”  
“It doesn’t suit you.”

Remus scowls and touches his beard protectively. He’d worked hard to grow this – facial hair, ironically, does not come easily to him.   
“I don’t see why not.” Remus grumbles.  
“No, it doesn’t suit you. You should shave it.” Sirius finalises, then gets up and goes to the kitchen. “Want a coffee?”  
“Tea, thanks.” Remus flips Sirius off behind his back before heading to the bathroom to shave.

* * *

  
5 minutes later and they’re sitting back on the couch again with their respective cups of tea and coffee. Sirius is smiling at Remus, satisfied.  
“Much better.” He praises, watching him over the brim of his mug.  
“Shut up, Sirius.” Remus is still scowling, and pretending the blush is because of his hot tea. “I have to tell you something, okay?”

Sirius looks at him expectantly, shuffling upright in his seat like an eager puppy. Remus can feel his pulse in his throat, fast and heavy. He gulps.  
“Okay. Right. Sirius, I have to tell you something that I really did think you knew. Because everyone knows... Apart from you, apparently.”  
“12 years in Azkaban does tend to mean you’re not on the mailing list anymore...” Sirius grumbles.  
“No, this is like. A life thing. I have always been like this.”  
“I know you’re a werewolf.”  
“What the fuck Sirius, shut up.” Remus has to hold back the urge to smack his friend upside the head. Instead he takes a long, calming drink of his tea and reminds himself of the sheer volume of chocolate in his bag. “Sirius, I’m gay.”

Sirius just stares at him blankly over his coffee. Remus stares back, awkward now, waiting for a response. After a minute or so, he waves a hand in front of Sirius’s face.   
“Hello?” He sounds exasperated and doesn’t bother hiding it. Sirius blinks back into existence.  
“Wow. Sorry, spaced out. It’s just that, now you say it, it’s pretty damn obvious.”   
“Yeah.” Remus lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, leaning back in his seat.  
“Wait, hold up. Tonks isn’t a guy.”  
“Tonks is agender, Sirius. It’s a bit different.”  
“Oh, shit, I didn’t know. Been calling them ‘her’ all the time. Must’ve sounded like a prick.”  
“S’alright, you didn’t know. Didn’t seem bothered by it, anyway – they’re pretty easy-osy.” Remus shrugs, looking for a way to bring this back on track. “But yeah. I’m into guys.”

Sirius watches him, searching his face for something but Remus doesn’t know what. He busies himself with taking a drink of his tea.  
“You knew in school?” Sirius tilts his head, quizzical.  
“Yeah, ‘course.” Remus hurriedly swallows another mouthful of tea. The reason he had never explicitly brought it up was that in the dorm, when the others would tease him asking which of the girls in their year he liked, it was much easier to dodge and not get embarrassed. If they started grilling him about the guys, it might get a little close to home, considering he has to sleep next to him every night and whatnot.

“You never told me.” Remus looks up sharply, surprised at the dejected tone. He’s staring down into his coffee. “It doesn’t change anything, obviously. I just... I thought I knew everything about you, you know? I thought your furry little problem was your biggest secret. You were kind of an open book, at least to me. But I didn’t even think... And all this time, I’ve been talking girls and wives...” Sirius looks utterly put out by this revelation. “Did I make you feel like you couldn’t talk about it?”   
“No, no, god Sirius, of course not.” Remus is shocked at the idea that his secrecy had somehow been Sirius’s fault – he hadn’t expected him to take it that way. He tightens his grip on his mug, wanting to tell him everything to explain, but he’s too afraid.  
“It’s just that, I never wanted to make you feel that way because I’ve been with guys, too. Gender doesn’t even faze me. But I never told you, and you must have thought I was one of these ‘lads’ out on pussy patrol and felt too awkward.”

Remus groans and puts down his tea.  
“First of all... Please never say pussy patrol again. It’s uncomfortable. Secondly, you didn’t make me feel awkward, it’s not like that. Thirdly, you’ve been with guys? And you didn’t tell us all about it in graphic detail?”  
“Well, no one else was talking about blokes, it never came up.” Sirius scowls, drinking his coffee to avoid further questioning. Remus looks at him imploringly but doesn’t press the matter. They settle into silence again.  
“I can’t believe I just had to come out to someone when I’m in my fucking thirties.” Remus snaps, picking his tea back up again. Sirius grins at him, tucking his hair behind his ear when it nearly goes in his coffee.  
“I like to keep you on your toes.”

Sirius stands up just then and struts out of the room to go and get something from the bedroom, probably a top as it is pretty chilly right now. He’s swinging his hips a little bit and his shirtless back catches the shadows cast by the candles. Remus watches unabashedly, mid-sip of his tea. _You certainly do, yeah_.

* * *

  
Sirius is drunk again, two nights later. Remus has been pretending to be asleep the last couple nights when his friend has been swearing at the walls and throwing bottles about. It’s worked well so far, and the broken glass has always been cleaned up when he gets up in the morning with Sirius snoring next to him. However, tonight Sirius is very quiet. Rem knows he’s drinking because he was three bottles in when he nipped out to the loo. He can’t hear snoring, so he hasn’t fallen asleep on the couch.

Worried, he waits a few more minutes for signs of life – a bottle hitting the wall, perhaps, or a random string of swears, the sofa getting pushed over. When nothing comes, he finally gets up to check on him.

As usual Sirius is sitting on the couch looking moody with possibly his fifth bottle in his hand. Rem hovers in the doorway uncertainly, looking on in silence. He actually startles when Sirius turns and stares right at him.

“Well? Why don’t you sit down?” He’s slurring a lot, making Remus wince. He complies with the suggestion however, and sits down. “Don’t say anything. I know I’m drunk.”  
“Glad you noticed...” Remus mumbles, looking down at his hands.  
“Hah. Yeah, I noticed.” Sirius sounds truly miserable, staring into the bottle. “Noticed alright.” He sighs, takes a drink. He isn’t wincing anymore, used to it again.

“I’m sorry.” Remus jumps at the sudden admission, looking at Sirius who is avoiding his eyes.  
“You’re... sorry?”  
“Yeah. That’s what I said, isn’t it.” Sirius is fiddling with his drink, obviously uncomfortable. “I know I was a dick... You know. Before... Before Azkaban. I didn’t trust you enough.”  
“You didn’t?”  
“No. I know you noticed I was acting funny. I thought maybe, you know, because Voldemort was offering Wolfsbane and stuff, that maybe... You might’ve gone over.”

Remus is struck dumb by the suggestion, staring at his friend like his heart’s dropped out his stomach. They sit in total silence, and Rem can hear his pulse loud between his ears. His best friend... Sirius... The man he was in love with, would die for, do anything for... Thought he had gone over to Voldemort. After everything.

It takes a minute. A few minutes, in fact. He can hear Sirius fidgeting with the bottle, taking a drink every now and then, shaking with nerves. Remus wants to be angry, furious even. He wants to shout at Sirius, how could you? How could you? After everything we’ve been through?

“I...” He starts, trailing off. He can feel his eyes filling with tears while his face heats up. “You... You thought... I....” He can’t complete the sentence. It hurts too much. “I have to go.”

* * *

  
Remus does a good job of avoiding Sirius for the next few hours. He sits in the bathroom for while, feeling like he might vomit. Then he goes back to bed, Sirius still in the living room now another bottle deep. He’s lying there, unable to sleep no matter how hard he tries – Sirius has gone back to being noisy. But he’s not shouting and swearing this time, or throwing bottles and breaking furniture. He’s crying.

Loud, heart breaking sobs. Remus can barely live with himself for not going to him and holding him, but he’s so shaken and hurt that he can barely move. Instead he grips the pillow tight and tries not to start crying as well.

Rem hears Sirius getting up, knocking a few bottles over. He’s coming to the bedroom, so he gets up quickly and goes to the bathroom, sliding down to sit on the floor. It takes a few minutes for Sirius to navigate to the room, and then realise that Remus isn’t there.

“Remus...?”

Sirius’s voice is quiet and broken. He lets out a soft sob, coming to the bathroom door.  
“Remus... I’m sorry... I’m so, so sorry...”

Remus doesn’t say anything, drops his head down into his hands as he feels the tears threatening to spill over. Sirius is sitting down now on the other side of the door, leaning against it heavily.  
“Remus...” He whispers through the tears, breathing raggedly. Rem holds his breath, trying to keep quiet so that Sirius might go away. “Please...”

* * *

  
Remus sleeps on the bathroom floor that night, hearing Sirius fall asleep by the door some hours later after plenty of begging. He chokes on his tears, trying to keep quiet to avoid Sirius thinking he’s responding. He doesn’t know what to do.

When he wakes up, he’s stiff and sore, his head thrumming like he’s the one who drank too much last night. Sirius can’t be heard on the other side of the door anymore so Rem assumes he went to bed. Carefully, he stands up with a quiet groan and stretches himself out. The pain of last night is now a dull ache in his chest.

He creeps out of the bathroom and through to the kitchen to make a morning cup of tea. He doesn’t feel like he can sleep anymore, anyway. Sirius is asleep on the couch, coincidentally. His hair is a matted mess, sticking to the tear tracks and sweat on his face. Remus grits his teeth and ignores him, ignores the urge to get him water and a hangover cure, ignores the urge to hold him and kiss him and love him unconditionally.

The tea clears his head a bit. He stands against the kitchen counter, drinking it slow. Then he makes another one. After that one, another. All the while he ruminates on everything Sirius said last night and all that has happened in the last 12 years. He thinks back on high school and the intermediate stage of limbo when they all joined the Order.

Sirius wakes up after the third cup of tea with a weak groan. Remus wonders if he should do anything, putting his mug down on the side. He’s about to go out and see him when Sirius flies by the kitchen door in the direction of the bathroom.

He spends the next five minutes emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet, shuddering convulsively. Remus gets him a hangover potion from the medicine cabinet and a glass of water and goes to the bathroom.

Sobbing wretchedly over the toilet, Sirius looks like he wants to back away from Remus when he comes in. His eyes are ringed red and his face is sickeningly pale. He looks gaunt and Rem realises that he’s not been monitoring what Sirius has been eating. In retrospect, apart from the toast he hasn’t seen him eat at all.

“Here, you idiot, drink this.” Remus hands him the potion, then the water after that. Sirius goes limp against the bathroom wall with a relieved sigh – he always used to have panic attacks when he vomited in high school, so Remus isn’t surprised that he’s in such a state.

They sit there quietly, the only noise their breathing, on the bathroom floor. It’s not a comfortable silence, but Remus is waiting for Sirius to pull himself together a bit before he breaches the subject of last night.

It takes a while for him to be confident that Sirius is ready to hear what he has to say, but he waits patiently. When Sirius turns to look at him like he’s ready to get down and beg for forgiveness, he decides to break the ice.

“Sirius...” He sighs, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I’m not going to lie. Last night, what you said... I couldn’t believe you thought that. I’m not being dramatic, it felt like my heart broke. Maybe it did.” Remus shrugs, avoiding Sirius’s eyes now. “But when Lily and James died... When Peter... well, when he was supposed to have died... I thought it was you. Everyone said it was you, and I believed it. Because I didn’t know who else it could have been. And that’s just as bad, right? I didn’t say anything when you went to prison without a trial. I let it happen. I don’t think I could have changed anything, but I believed you were a murderer. I was heartbroken, and confused, and angry. But I was scared. And the grief of losing James and Lily was enough for me to believe it. I realise now how stupid that was, that you would never betray any one of us. That you and James were always fiercely loyal, true to Gryffindor house through and through even if it would kill you. And it did kill James. It did.”

He takes a long pause, gripping the hem of his t-shirt tightly so he doesn’t lose his nerve. Sirius is staring at him with wide eyes, lips trembling.  
“I never should have doubted you. But I did. For 12 years. And you went through a lot worse those 12 years that I didn’t believe in you, than I did for the few that you didn’t believe in me. I know that. And I forgive you – it was a hard time for all of us. We all made mistakes in the end.”

Sirius is watching him intently, eyes watering like he’s going to start crying again. Instead, he sniffs hard and rubs his eyes then nods.   
“Yeah. Yeah, we did.”

* * *

  
The rest of the day is fairly quiet. Sirius cleans up the living room using Remus’s wand, which he complains is stupidly light and he keeps nearly throwing it over the room when he makes big extravagant gestures.  
“I’m sure you’ll get your wand back soon.” Remus rolls his eyes, sipping on his tea and eating chocolate. He’s secretly very amused at the way his wand keeps on backfiring on Sirius, breaking one of the beer bottles further before it cleans it and such.

Later on that day they get a floo of more food, and considering Sirius hasn’t been eating much it means half of it has to sit on the counters because the cupboards are full. Remus makes sure he eats lunch and dinner, watching over him until he finishes the last bite.  
“Right, mum, are you going to tell me I can’t have dessert before I finish this?”  
“Was that something Walburga was in a great habit of saying?”  
“No, James’s mum used to say it though. She was more motherly than the old harpy.”  
“S’pose that’s true. Also, no dessert before you’ve finished your... Pasta thing... Is exactly what I’m getting at here.”  
“I don’t think I want any dessert, if you’re making it.”  
“I’m not – Molly sent treacle tart. But I’m planning on eating it all, since you’re obviously not hungry.”

Strangely, Sirius manages all of his ‘pasta thing’ after that, and then enough treacle tart to make himself feel ill. Remus eats the leftovers, hoping Molly makes more for next time because Sirius ate way more than his fair share.

They don’t have any more deep conversations for a while. Sirius gets his wand back about a week later. Remus starts to get more tense as the full moon approaches, knowing that soon he will have to lock himself in that tiny room, alone, because like hell is he letting Sirius in there with him.

He’s particularly on edge from not having gone outdoors in so long. It’s a few days before his transformation and Sirius is still exulting in having his wand back. He’s doing absolutely everything with magic now – he turns the candles on and off, closes and reopens doors for no reason. He gave himself a haircut, shaved Remus’s fledgling beard, shaved his own legs. It’s driving Rem mad – there are constant noises around the apartment, with some spell or another being done at any given moment.

Remus thinks he might actually have to knock Sirius out after he tries for the fifth time to levitate him off the sofa. He’s been luring him around the apartment all day with floating chocolate to get him to walk into cleverly plotted pranks such as a bucket of water on top of a door. He even makes use of a muggle invention he’s never heard of called ‘cling film’, putting a layer of that over all of the food in the kitchen so even making a simple cup of tea becomes a task. Also, his tea keeps on morphing into pink sludge that inexplicably has now started coming out of the shower, too.

Sirius even has the gall to taunt him endlessly until he gives chase through the apartment, into the room where Remus runs flat out into a whole layer of cling film which has been attached to the door frame. He screams in frustration, throwing his hands up in the air and going to lock himself in the bathroom.

When he won’t reply to Sirius calling through the bathroom door, Sirius disappears for a suspiciously long amount of time. Then he slides a letter under the door addressed simply to ‘Moony, who apparently has constipation’. Before Rem has a chance to open it, it bursts open to reveal itself as a howler.

“MOONY, IF YOU DON’T COME OUT RIGHT NOW I’M GOING TO TRANSFIGURE YOUR TEA BAGS INTO TURDS.   
LOTS OF LOVE  
SIRIUS ORION BLACK”

“Sirius...” He hisses, standing up and opening the door. Sirius is standing on the other side, looking smug. “I’m going to kill you.”  
“But Remus, you haven’t flushed yet!”

* * *

  
The next day, Remus is even tetchier. Luckily, Sirius has lost interest in about half of his pranks and he isn’t quite as obsessed with opening and slamming every door in the house to the beat of some terrible song he heard on the radio once that he now only remembers one line of and keeps singing.

However, that does mean Sirius has time to get broody again, apparently. When Remus is sleeping through the afternoon, Sirius is drinking himself into a stupor again. He wakes up sometime after 11 at night and groans at the sound of Sirius muttering to himself in the living room.

“What are you doing?” He snaps as he enters the room. Sirius looks up at him, surprised to see him awake.  
“Oh. Nothing.” He’s being purposefully sulky and sullen. Remus rolls his eyes and makes to leave again. “Wait, don’t go!”

Rem turns around slowly, raising a brow at Sirius who is standing fretfully by the couch, wringing his hands.  
“Have you put a bucket of water on top of the door again...?” Remus asks warily before he’ll risk coming into the room. Sirius actually looks earnest when he tells him he hasn’t, so he comes in and, blissfully unsoaked, sits down on the sofa.

They sit in silence for a minute, Sirius bolt upright with the smell of beer pouring off him. How he’s fuelling this drunkenness Remus doesn’t know - apparently they’re geting floo’d beer with the rest of the groceries.

“Well...?” Remus prompts, feeling rather impatient what with the transformation looming tomorrow night. He always gets frustrated on the run-up. Sirius gives him a funny look and sighs.

“Do I still know you?” Sirius wraps his arms around himself tightly. Remus frowns.  
“Yes, you do.”  
“I just worry... I haven’t been asking you enough about those 12 years... What did I miss?”

“Honestly? Not a lot. After you went to Azkaban, I was in a state to be honest. Harry went to the Dursley’s, I was bloody raging. So I didn’t have a lot to do with the Order, I mean, half of them were dead and Voldemort was gone, so why bother?” Sirius is listening intently, nodding along like he’s taking notes in his head. “Basically I got my own apartment, the one you found me in when you got out. Barely went out. Spent years upon years just... I don’t know... Surviving. My furry little problem became more of a nightmare, so I was out of the game for a long time between transformations.”

“No partners, no new friends, no... Nothing?”  
“I mean, I would go and see my parents. My dad passed away a couple years after you went to prison – he always had a guilty conscience over what happened to me, you know. Thought it was his fault. He’d been weak for a long time and one day just... Gone. Mum had cancer, she died a couple years later.” Remus ducks his head, the memory hurting. “So yeah. But no, no partners. Tonks is a friend, though – we saw each other a fair amount. They’re the only person who ever tried to engage me for quite a while. Got close with Molly and Arthur too after a bit as well though. I guess that’s it in the way of friends.”

Sirius is frowning, obviously concerned by all this.  
“To be honest though, that’s a walk in the park next to Azkaban I’d expect.” Remus is trying to avoid having all the attention on him, but he’s not sure he wants to know all the gory details of Sirius’s sentence.  
“Well... It’s a different species of garden gnome, isn’t it?”  
“Quick interjection – did you just make that saying up?”  
“I have no idea. But stop trying to change the subject. I mean, Azkaban was a different kind of torture. It was mental torture, sure, because of the dementors. But knowing you, you felt responsible. I knew I was innocent. I never tortured myself over that. Funnily, though, considering it’s unforgivable, the Ministry aren’t afraid to throw a cruciatus curse about if they think it’ll get you to tell them who you know.”

Remus feels physically ill, a surge of protectiveness welling up in him. He leans over and pulls Sirius into his arms roughly, holding him tight.  
“Those sick fucks.” He hisses in Sirius’s hair, feeling his friend tremble against him at the thought of it. After a few minutes of being held tight, Sirius relaxes against him with a soft sound, almost a whimper.

They sit like that for a long time, Remus stroking Sirius’s back and holding him close. Eventually, Sirius falls into a light sleep and Rem stays awake to keep on hugging him tight. That night, there are no bad dreams.

* * *

  
The transformation is painful, as ever. Sirius refuses to be locked outside and sits with him as Padfoot. When Remus wakes up, he’s in bed with Sirius curled around him under the blanket. It feels like bliss next to the pain in his joints.

Sirius cooks dinner that day, a massive meal because he knows Rem will be starved. It uses up half of their food and it’s the most delicious thing Remus has had since coming here, considering he’s been left with chef duties thus far. He could almost cry when it’s finished, even though he’s fit to burst.

After another long night of sleep he feels a little more human (pun not intended). He manages to sit in the living room for a while, nursing cup of tea after cup of tea. Sirius is watching over him intently, waiting for any sign that he needs anything. Remus keeps trying to shoo him off but it doesn’t work, he sits by him all day barely speaking because he knows Rem is tired.

They receive correspondence from Dumbledore that day, telling them they will stay in hiding until further notice. Remus is furious not to be given any more information, not even a word on Harry’s wellbeing. When he vocalises this, stalking around the flat, Sirius tries to be appeasing.

“Remus, it’s okay. I’m sure Harry is fine, Dumbledore would tell us if anything had happened and-“  
“How can you defend him? How can you stand up for him at all, after everything? After he let you _rot_ in prison for over 12 years without a word, when he admitted to me he KNEW you were innocent, when he was the only one with any influence who could have spoken in your favour. To him, we’re just part of a strategy. It’s not right. So tell me, Sirius, why the fuck are you fucking defending him? What the fuck has he done for us?”

Sirius stares at him, dumbfounded.  
“Remus, he... He let you into the school, he let you teach, he-“  
“Gave me basic human rights? Let me _learn_? How fucking good of him, Sirius, to treat _me_ , a lowly animal, like a human being. Because I can control this. _I chose this_. So I shouldn’t take these things as a given, like an education and a place to work doing something I’m bloody fucking good at.” He rounds on Sirius then, striding up to him so they’re mere inches apart.

“You know what, Sirius? I’m sick of grovelling at people’s feet for treating me as more than an animal. For treating me the way I fucking _deserve_ to be treated - like a human. I’m not going to lie down and die for this fucking man, who let my _best friend_ , the _only_ one I had left, go to a life sentence in prison with no FUCKING trial. Who left me for _12 year_ s with no knowledge whatsoever of your innocence even though he knew, who knew I was in _agony_ every month but did nothing, who only approached me when he had need of me and gave me the potion I so _desperately_ needed. So if you want to, fucking fine. But I’m _fucked_ if I’m going to treat him like a hero. Fucked.”

Remus slams the bedroom door behind him and lights the candles simultaneously, throwing himself down in bed. He’s shaking with total fury, wishing Sirius saw it the way he did. He stays there, alone, for a couple hours and eventually falls back to sleep. He wakes up after some time to a knock on the door.

“Remus...?” Sirius sounds uncertain, hovering there.  
“Yeah?” He sighs, sitting up a little. When Sirius comes in it’s clear he’s been crying, shocked at Remus’s outburst as he was. Seeing this, Remus feels his resolve crumble. “Sirius... About earlier...”  
“No, don’t.” Sirius crosses over the room, looking at the floor. “I’m not mad. I came to say thanks.”

Remus gives him a confused look, tilting his head. Sirius is sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his lap.  
“I thought I was the only one who saw things that way. I used to spend days cursing his name. I knew he knew I was innocent. When they arrested me I begged them to let me speak to him, but he refused me. He _refused_ me, Remus.” Rem watches him through all of this, seeing how he’s struggling to form the sentences. “But now everyone thinks I should be grateful... For... For this.” He gestures to the room. “And I’m not. It makes me feel so guilty. And I’m glad... I’m glad that you’re as angry as I am...”

Remus reaches out to him gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. Sirius looks up at him with a weak smile through his hair.  
“Sirius... After my parents died, I had nothing... Nothing but you. Your memory, from back then. I didn’t think I knew who you were anymore. But I still had you, in my head... I hated myself for it. I hated myself for still seeing you as a friend after what I thought you had done. But now that I know... Even though I have Harry now, and Tonks and the Weasleys... You’re the only one who knows me to any extent. And that makes you very, very important to me. I will never forgive Dumbledore for what he did. For the way he acts so righteous, even now... Never, Sirius.”

They lie next to each other for a long time, watching each other in silence. Remus manages a weak smile after a while, which Sirius returns. They fall asleep holding on to one another. Neither of them dream.

* * *

  
“Remus. Have you ever had sex?”

Remus looks up from his reading, shocked at the sudden question. They’ve been sitting in near silence for hours now, Remus reading and Sirius experimenting with Muggle makeup. Currently he has a dark red lip stain on and has pencilled in his eyebrows. Remus is trying to pretend he looks ridiculous, when they both know Sirius looks hot as fuck.

“Um... Why do you want to know?”  
“It would be kind of sad if you hadn’t.” Sirius shrugs, going back to his eyeliner. Remus frowns at his back, taking a drink of tea.  
“How would it be sad?” He asks defensively.  
“Oh my god. You haven’t, had you?” Sirius looks genuinely shocked, completing a wing flawlessly first time. “Oh, _Remus_.”  
“What? I didn’t say that!”   
“But you got defensive, and that speaks for itself.”  
“Shut up Sirius, my sex life is none of your business.”  
“No, it’s not. Because you don’t have one.”  
“Did you have a lot of sex these last 12 years, Sirius?”  
“No. You try getting a hard on when there’s a dementor patrol every half hour. Anyway, I’d had sex before I went to prison. I thought we all had, but you’ve just been a serial wanker apparently.”  
“Well I’ve had a lot going on.”  
“I thought with all that pent up tension around your transformations, you’d be horny all the time.” Sirius shrugs, playing innocent as he sets about his other eye.

“I thought I was a serial wanker?” Remus asks, raising a brow. “Doesn’t matter how horny I get if I have my hand.”  
“So you’re admitting you’ve never had sex?”  
“What difference does it make? Just because I don’t want to tell you in graphic detail all of my sexual exploits. You’re the one that gets off on voyeurism.”  
“You liked hearing about me shagging folks, don’t lie.”  
“In case you didn’t get the memo, Sirius, I’m not into girls, so hearing about your, what did you call it, ‘pussy patrols’ didn’t really do much for me.”  
“It’s all the same really, stick it in a hole and whatnot.”  
“Sounds passionate, really. Though I think the additional dick would make a difference.”  
“You think... So you really haven’t had sex?”  
“I’m not talking to you about this.”  
“But you are, like, right now.”  
“And I’m ending the conversation.”  
“Are you really though?”

Remus doesn’t reply, scowling into his tea.  
“Remus, don’t ignore me. We can talk about these things, we’re best friends! I’m not judging you – “  
“You said it would be sad if I hadn’t had a shag, Sirius. I’d say that’s a bit judgemental.”  
“I only said it would be _kind_ of sad!”  
“Doesn’t matter, same thing.”  
“Remus, I don’t understand why you won’t talk about it, I mean, the past has obviously shown us that keeping secrets isn’t healthy so-“  
“You can’t relate my sex life to the bigger picture, Sirius, it doesn’t work like that-“  
“Of course it does, life lessons can be learned from anywhere-“  
“You’re speaking about a war Sirius, that’s very different from sex-“  
“Doesn’t have to be if you’re into some really kinky shit-“  
“Well what I’m into doesn’t really matter does it-“  
“Well I was only asking, I’m just curious, you don’t need to be so defensive, I just think we should talk about these things since we’re stuck together all the time and all, you know-“  
“And you can’t think of anything else that you’d like to know about apart from what I do with my dick-“  
“Well I can still find the other stuff out after, that just came to mind is all-“  
“I can’t believe you’re harassing me about this-“  
“Just tell me, Remus, I’m not going to laugh if you’ve never had a shag, a lack of experience is nothing to be ashamed of-“

Remus is especially pissy today because of the recent transformation and he can actually feel his nerves frying as Sirius pushes and pushes. The truth is that he _has_ had sex, like, once and that it was rubbish so he doesn’t want to talk about it. He’d came thinking of Sirius instead of the person he was with and it was generally lacklustre for everyone involved. Whenever he gets himself off, it’s guiltily, thinking of his best friend who he can’t fall out of love with. He feels himself heating up at the thought, getting defensive.

“What exactly do you want to know, Sirius?” He asks in slow, measured words. He’s trying to count his breaths to calm down but it isn’t working.  
“Well, I just wondered what you’re like in bed, you know? Like, what you’re into, if you’re any good... How many people you’ve been with... I mean, most people who are into blokes have made a move on me by now you know, so I’m just curious about what’s going on down there, too.” Sirius shrugs, suddenly avoiding Remus’s eyes. He’s standing up to clear away the makeup now, having rubbed most of it off apart from the lip tint which is staining his lips a juicy red that makes Rem struggle to focus.

Sirius leans over in front of him then to pick up the last few bits of makeup, wiggling his ass right in front of him. Remus feels his cock twitch in interest. _‘Most people who are into blokes have made a move on me by now’... What’s that supposed to imply?_ Remus bites his lip, forcing his gaze away. _Is he suggesting I should make a move on him?_

“So really what you’re asking is how big is my cock, and what are my kinks?” Sirius is using his wand to move the now-filled makeup bag (which he cleaned up by hand for some reason) to the side table. He looks at the floor instead of at Remus as he considers his reply.  
“Well, yeah, I’m just curious, it’s not like I need to know, if you’re really not comfortable, I’m just-“  
“You really want to know?” Remus stands up, towering over Sirius by numerous inches. Sirius gulps and looks up at him, suddenly appearing nervous as Rem takes a step towards him. He knows he gets especially irritable around the transformation, including just after, and is wondering if he maybe should have left this conversation until later.  
“I mean, I was just asking, it’s no big deal-“  
“Sirius, do you or do you not want to know?” Remus has backed him up against the wall by now, the room is so small. He’s standing so close that Sirius can smell the chocolate on his breath.

There’s a long, heavy pause between them, Remus staring down into his eyes.  
“Yes... I do.” Sirius breathes, voice so quiet he can barely hear it. Rem grins, triumphant.  
“Well, Sirius, what I would say is that most blokes who are that interested in my cock have made a move on me before they’ve known me for over twenty years.”

Sirius gawps up at him, obviously not having expected that reaction at all. Remus smirks as he moves away, sitting back down on the couch with his cup of tea and chocolate.  
“So you _are_ into me!” Sirius nearly shrieks, his wand falling out his pocket. He’s still flushed and breathless from Rem’s close proximity. Right now, he’s quite indignant at Remus being a sassy little shit.

Remus doesn’t reply, just drinks his tea and reads his book with a smug look on his face.  
“Remus John Lupin don’t you _dare_ ignore me after that, I swear to Merlin-“ Sirius storms over the room, using wandless magic to throw Rem’s book to the side. Rem’s eyes dart up to meet his, surprised at the audacity of the move. Next goes his tea, which explodes against the wall. Sirius looks furious. “If you so much as consider ignoring me for another minute I won’t speak to you for a month, I’ll transform into Padfoot and ignore you, I’ll, I’ll, I’ll eat all your chocolate-“

Remus stands up abruptly and pushes Sirius back against the wall again, leaning down to crush their lips together. At the contact, Sirius lets out a long, unabashed moan and pushes back against him desperately.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to do that.” Sirius gasps, his hands entwining in Remus’s hair.  
“Chocolate is bad for dogs.” Remus shrugs, grinning. Sirius scowls and yanks on his hair, pretending to be cross. At the sharp sting of pain, Rem hisses and presses his body flush to Sirius’s holding him tight to the wall. His breath is hot on his face and he smirks at the way that Sirius whimpers.

Remus’s hand finds its way up into Sirius’s hair, tangling in the long, silky locks and pulling. The moan he lets out is so filthy that Rem’s hips jerk forward involuntarily, a growl rumbling out of his chest.

Soon, things are getting heated and they’re both hard in their jeans, rutting against each other while they kiss. Sirius doesn’t hold back a single noise, knows that Remus likes it when he moans into his mouth. He’s learning all of his kinks seamlessly, in fact – hair pulling, biting, scratching, rough play in general. Remus is starting to think they’re quite well suited to one another.

Remus pulls back suddenly, looking down at Sirius with dark, half lidded eyes.  
“Bedroom. Now.”

* * *

  
“So... You’re into me, then.” Sirius asks some time later, lying on his stomach with his head propped up on his palm. Remus is on his back, still gasping for breath.  
“Sirius... I’m a _lot_ more than into you.” He breathes, looking at Sirius as if it should be obvious.  
“You are?” He sounds ridiculously hopeful and Remus actually manages to roll his eyes, though it’s a mammoth effort.  
“I’ve been, for lack of a better word, mooning over you since we were sixteen Sirius.”

It’s like Christmas came early or something. Sirius’s face positively lights up – he looks genuinely happier than Remus remembers him being since before the war. Rem smiles at him warmly, accepting a long, tender kiss.  
“Good. Because I’ve been trying to get you to moon over me since we were 14.” Sirius grins, laughing when Remus pulls him over to lie on top of him.   
“The good news is that it worked. The bad news is that now you know, you won’t be able to get rid of me. I’m like a bad smell.”  
“I think you smell quite nice just now.” Sirius nuzzles into his neck, breathing in his scent. Remus shivers, tilts his head to give him better access. “Though I wouldn’t mind helping you shower.”  
“You’re filthy.” Remus laughs, turning to kiss Sirius’s temple.  
“Then a shower would be mutually beneficial!”

They lie like that for some time, covering each other with kisses and snarky comments. It feels like, for the first time since Sirius escaped, that they’re actually together like they should be. Like they actually know each other again, at last.

 

 

 


End file.
